JFK assassination: Freeman stopped presses twice on Nov. 22, 1963

KINGSTON >> Bill Studt was an apprentice pressman at the Freeman when all hell broke loose on Nov. 22, 1963.

For the 21-year-old Kingston man, the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated turned out to be one of his most unforgettable experiences in his 47-year career at the newspaper.

He was on the third floor of the building at 1 Broadway, the building that now houses the restaurant Mariner’s Harbor.

“We ran a stereotype department on the third floor, which was part of the composing area at the time. That’s where the UPI (United Press International) and AP (Associated Press) came through,” he said.

“The first inkling that anything had happened was when one of the linotype operators ran over at about 12:45 and said, ‘The president has been shot.’”

The Freeman — an afternoon paper in those days — normally went to press at 3 p.m., Studt recalled.

“The editorial department came running upstairs and said, ‘We’re on a hold right now,’” he said.

“Of course, we knew why. One of the guys had a radio, and we all tuned to CBS on WKNY (radio), and we started to get feed from them as far as what was going on,” Studt said.

About 2 p.m., the employees at the Freeman learned Kennedy had died.

“At that time, Page 1 was ripped up and had to be redone,” Studt said.

In times of emergencies, like assassinations, the “rules were turned upside down on Page 1,” he said.

“That was never done in newspapers unless it was something serious that had happened. It became a wide, black column rule that essentially said someone had died or something bad had happened.”

Studt said the editors stopped the press twice for updates because they wanted to pass the most current information on to readers.

“That was unusual because the fellows there had never seen it before,” he said. “We ultimately didn’t get done ’til after 6 p.m.”

Even with all the commotion, Studt recalled the sullen faces of his fellow employees and the somber mood of his department.

“Everyone was actually walking around and doing what we had to do, but our minds were on this,” he said. “It was the time of the Cuban missile crisis, and we thought it might be the beginning of World War III.

“Production departments are traditionally loud and raucous, but it was very solemn, and of course, anyone who had a radio was listening to it, and we were running to the AP machines to find out what was going on,” he said.

“It’s something I’ll never forget. It’s something none of us will ever forget.”

About the Author

Paula Ann Mitchell has been a multimedia journalist at the Freeman since March of 2010. She has an extensive background in television, radio, newspapers and magazines. Reach the author at pmitchell@freemanonline.com
or follow Paula Ann on Twitter: @anchoratfreeman.